Green Birthday
by PeechTao -Ezra Cross
Summary: Britt Reid is trying to enjoy his birthday, but being held hostage at his office by a green hornet imposter is not helping his case any. What can the DA, Kato, and Lenore do to save him? and what does happen when you stab a femoral artery? please review!


Here's another Green Hornet short from the realm of Tao. I have kind of made myself a short story anthology, so fans of Green Tong (cleverly referred to by friends as Green Thong :) and Hypothermia won't be disappointed here I hope. Please enjoy!

-Note: DA Scanlon (since he was killed) has been replaced by DA BJ Parker who knows that Britt Reid is The Green Hornet.

-I don't own The Green Hornet. But I do own a copy of The Green Hornet Chronicles. Totally recommend reading it.

**Profile of the Green Birthday Danger**

**Book 3**

By: PeechTao

Now the last thing I expected to do when I woke up this morning was being held hostage by my own creation.

Honestly. WTH.

There I was Kato's famous personal brew in one hand, the newest _Daily Sentinel_ in the other. I spent my morning lounging at my place, drinking and reading until nine-o-clock when I decided maybe it was time to make an appearance at my paper. After all, the latest article about DA Parker accepted the key to the city for taking in a huge chunk of The Green Hornet's "crime syndicate", should have made the front page instead of the latest Dr. Kevorkian's death machine hell-bent on destroying all humanity. Honestly, was it so much to ask? Of course there was a companion article about how The Green Hornet may be linked to said doomsday device aimed at destroying half of LA. Who signed off on that? Axford? Then there was the piece concerning the law enforcement of the city. A big reward, somewhere in the neighborhood of half a million dollars, was being held as ransom for any information leading to the whereabouts and eventual arrest of The Green Hornet. Every cop with "dirty" written under his badge was bucking for that money in every way one could imagine. That should have been page two, at least.

So I went through the first edition, highlighting and circling as if I had at least the mildest of editing abilities. I didn't dare flatter myself. I was never raised a newspaper guy. I hardly had an eye for the crime fighting crap I roped myself into. But I had to stick up for my DA. Especially before he had a chance to see the edition, pick up the phone, and give me a hearty reaming over it.

I called Kato; he got the Cadillac roaring to life. I never did ask what he did to the classic car to turn it into the Black Beauty's White Knight. He called it "clever modifications". I called it dangerous. If anyone found out that my car was tricked out with bullet proof glass and Ben Hur spinning blades that popped out of my front axle at will, they might start asking questions. Kato assured me that would never happen for one good reason: I was never allowed to drive it.

Well, I guess he had a point. I always did seem to press the wrong button out of the half a million he had jammed all over the dashboard. But it may help if he gave them English indicator signs. Not Mandalorian or Cannonball Run, or whatever the Hell kind of language he spoke.

But I digress.

I had my coffee, read the paper, made my notes, got into my car, was driven to work, bee-lined for my desk, sat in a budget meeting, snored through the editorial meeting, got caught up on the meeting by Casey and her impeccable note-taking skills, found out my security films were no longer running (great, just one more thing), met Kato in my office, discussed tonight's Green Hornet agenda, sent him to the house, sat behind my desk, got a call from the DA, begged forgiveness from the DA, got laughed at by the DA, invited the DA out for drinks, arranged a date with the DA, hung up my phone, got out of my chair, and got clocked in the back of my head by the picture of by dead father that normally sat on a shelf behind me.

Welcome to my morning.

By the time I came to I was nursing a mighty big headache. With sudden dread I realized I had drooled all over my office carpet. Some big-wig news editor I made. As I scrambled to my feet to get my bearings a gruff voice originated from somewhere high and to my right.

"Freeze or it's the last thing you do."

So, I froze. For about three seconds. My eyes darted to every reflective surface in my office. First the mirror directly in front of me. The angle was just off, instead showing a glass-fronted poster to my left. In the reflection of the poster I saw the shape of a man, clad in a heavy outer coat. The color indiscernible. Dark, maybe black. In the distorted view of a silver vase I caught sight of a familiar fedora adorning his head. The entire assessment took exactly three seconds. My mind filled in the rest.

I was being accosted by none other than The Green Hornet himself.

My body flipped over instantly with the extreme shock this produced. I must have gone too fast for his taste. A warning shot was fired close to my left ear, shaving off more than a few hairs along its way. The bullet lodged in the carpet with an angry _Ping_.

"Holy Crap, The Green Hornet!" I shouted. I couldn't help myself. That's what everyone said to me when I suddenly appeared. And this was one of the biggest surprises of my life. I'd never been held hostage by myself before, let alone under such deadly circumstances.

I suddenly wish I hadn't sent Kato home so early.

The gun edged closer. Too close. If I wanted to, and if I wanted to blow my cover completely I could have snatched it from his hands and turned the tables on him. As it was I could not afford such luxury. I waited to hear him out.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, trying to stick a little fear in my voice. It was a hard feat to accomplish when my mind couldn't stop tearing the guy up. His mask wasn't the right size, the hat was all wrong. He wore a trench coat instead of an overcoat, everything about him was just plane off. It was a little comical actually. I knew if I laughed, I might just make this nutcase lose it and bust a cap in me. So, I kept my mouth shut for now.

"It's not you I want." he said, disguising his voice under the husky growl I normally adopted. "You're just a stepping stone. I want you're Hornet contact. The guy that thinks he's got an edge on me. The one filling your paper with information he shouldn't have."

I found myself being picked up by my shirt front and tie. The gun pressed a divot into the side of my head.

"And don't feed me that confidentiality crap."

I set my jaw to keep the anger from spilling out unnecessarily. This wacko was holding me up for information on The Green Hornet (aka me) provided to the _Daily Sentinel_ by anonymous tips (provided by, you guessed it, me). How was I supposed to get myself out of this one?

The fake Green Hornet lifted me to a standing position and proceeded to pistol whip me across the brow. That I had not expected. I ended up crashing sideways against the large plate glass window that displayed half the city from nearly 28 stories above it. The fake kicked my legs out from under me. I hit the low window sill with my bottom jaw as he leaned his knee into the small of my back and squeezed me against the window frame.

"Come on, Reid. Start singing or I'll give you a view of the city you'll never forget."

* * *

I found out later from Kato just what he was up to while I was being accosted the crap out of by The Green Hornet. He, unsurprisingly, was in the garage tinkering with my classic 1967 Shelby GT 500. I can't imagine just what he was doing to it, but it was probably something deadly and incomprehensible to normal people like me who drive cars and not rolling machines of death. After working out briefly in the weight room, he headed up to the main house to make his usual important calls. He checked in with the DA, and then got a hold of Case to see how things were going at the office.

"Great." Case replied. "I don't think he knows a thing. He hasn't come out yet, so—"

Kato checked the time (on about forty clocks according to him. I didn't think we had that many in the mansion but then again I didn't go around counting them either). "He hasn't come out? Is noon. He has been in his office for three hours straight?"

"I've been here the whole time I haven't heard a word out of him after you left at ten. Don't worry; maybe he's just down in the dumps. It'll be his first birthday without his father around. The whole office is in on it."

Something didn't sit right with Kato. Perhaps it was because he knew that every half hour I was popping in and out of my office like a jack-in-the-box to check on my staff. Usually it was because I was bored, but maybe it did some good once in a while. He let it drop for now, assuring me later he was "really worried" at that point.

And it only got worse from there.

After the DA had to pull me and Kato out of a frozen ocean in the middle of the night after the Black Beauty exploded after rolling off a dock and killing one really nasty drug ring leader, the DA, B.J. Parker, finely decided it was high time for him to have a way to contact The Green Hornet, or at least vice versa. I went for the second one. After all, I was not Batman and it would look kind of weird if anyone ever found the DA's Green Hornet communicator just chillin in his office someplace. Kato installed a transmitter in three or four of the DA's wrist watches. When he put it on, some little brain inside let my watch know which one he was wearing and transmitted directly to him specifically, anywhere within a forty mile radius. The communication was short and brief. Like a cell phone ringer, a little buzzing of a Hornet would radiate to his ears alone and he knew what number he had to call instantly. The buzzing sound was my idea.

Little did he know my face was currently being pummeled by a deranged psychopath in a Green Hornet costume. All he knew was the alarm went off as soon as The Hornet took his eyes off me long enough to allow me to flip the switch on my wrist watch and start transmitting.

Kato turned back to the phone as soon as it started ringing again. But it wasn't just any phone. It was Kato's secret, double crossed, convoluted, never-be-traced phone line. The phone line the phone company didn't even know exists. He was waiting for just such a call. He expected it to be from me, explaining some sort of wacky trouble I'd gotten caught up in. To his surprise it was the DA.

"What happened?" Parker demanded. " I just talked to Reid over an hour ago, and its daylight. Usually calls like this reach me in the dead of night. My wife's concerned I'm having an affair."

"I heard nothing from Mr. Reid. He called you?" Kato replied, worry ticking away by the minute.

"Well my wrist is buzzing like I've got angry Hornet's swarming up my sleeve but that's about it."

There was a pause on either side, both men considering their options.

"I think something is wrong." Kato said finely.

"How wrong?"

"Seriously."

"Where's Reid?"

"The office. Hasn't left yet. Miss Case knows for sure."

"I can be there in half an hour." Parker replied and hung up the line.

Kato headed right into the garage. He piled The Green Hornet gear into the trunk of the Cadillac and floored the gas pedal. Knowing him, he'd be at the _Sentinel_ in five minutes flat.

* * *

All of The Hornet articles on my wall, the file folders in my desk, and computer models on my hard drive weren't enough to get me out of my Hornet jam. He wanted more. He wanted the name of my contact. He wanted dates, when the tips were made, where were they from, what part of town did they circulate in, who got the calls, who wrote the notes.

And, again, who was my informant.

And if he had to sit there all morning and beat the information out of me, he was prepared to do just that. Gotta love a guy with some staying power.

My wall of windows that overlooked the editing room was closed off for now by its thick private curtains. The shade to the door was pulled low and hooked down to prevent any unwanted eyes of giving us the pleasure of an audience. Or me a rescuer.

By now I was sitting in my office wingback chair, typing furiously on the computer, trying to think of some way to get this guy off my back and buy enough time for Parker and Kato to come to my much needed rescue. How exactly they were to go about that, I don't know but it was the best plan I had under the circumstances. I just had to buy enough time for them.

And where the Hell was all my staff? I swear, it's like this guy paid them all off to keep out of my office or something. It was NEVER this quite in my personal conference room EVER.

Then, as if an answer to prayer, Miss Case came on the intercom.

The sound shocked both the fake Hornet and me. He a little more so. The gun he was holding to the side of my head vibrated as if he'd forgot it was there and nearly blew my temporal lobe out my left nostril. I tried to keep my panic out of my voice as I answered.

"Yes, Miss Case?" I asked, all official and non-confrontational. No _Baby, how you doin'_ stuck in there. Maybe she'd catch on that a masked gunman was trying to kill me.

"I was wondering where you'd be taking your lunch today, Mr. Reid. I believe the staff has ordered out and invited you down to the cafeteria." she was cute when she worried about my eating habits.

I looked at The Hornet before I responded. He closed in on me, his voice hitting my ear. "Get rid of her." he growled.

_Awesome,_ I thought_, I'll do just the opposite_. "Thanks, but I'll be skipping today. Heavy load on my plate, might have me working all afternoon."

"Tell her to hold your calls. Cancel your appointments." The Hornet continued.

This was only a better situation for me. Red flags should be waving like a Chinese New Year celebration. "Hold all my calls and cancel my appointments, especially the one with B.J Parker."

"But sir?"

"No buts, Miss Case. I have some important Green Hornet files to go through and I don't want to be disturbed."

I knew I crossed the line, but I couldn't risk losing the opportunity. I switched the intercom off and wasn't surprised when the blow came down on the back of my head. I hit my keyboard as my skull cracked open.

* * *

"HE SAID WHAT?" Kato exclaimed, unbelievingly.

"Not taking lunch? On his birthday? After he's been dropping hints all week about having a big part at the office. A big _surprise_ party he didn't want to know about?" B.J. Parker was flabbergasted. "I don't get it. And hold his appointments? Which appointments was he expecting."

Casey shrugged, indicating the schedule. "That just the thing, he didn't have any! Not even the one mentioned with you. He made it a light day intentionally knowing it was his birthday. I arranged the lunch party here, everyone's already downstairs enjoying themselves. It was my job to bring Britt along, but he hasn't left that room at all."

The DA looked out over the completely vacant pressroom bull pen. It was as if the entire staff had been raptured and transported to the party a few floors down. Only Kato, Casey and he remained. They decided to talk privately in one of the corner offices, in case anyone holding Reid inside wanted to spy on their planning.

"I do not get it." Kato continued. "He was fine when I left. No one went in or out after the meetings."

The DA looked up. "What meetings?"

Casey shrugged. "Just the usual. A budget meeting first thing, after nine when he came in. Then an editorial meeting. He slept through half of it. And that was all."

"Who was at the last one, where was it?" the District attorney asked. He became instantly his title. He wanted information.

"In his office at the boardroom desk like usual. The senior staff was there, Kato, and a couple of interviewees for some follow-up articles."

"Who was being interviewed?"

Casey held up a finger to indicate she was thinking. After a moment she crossed the bull pen floor and went to her desk. She grabbed her notes and went back to the corner office. "According to the roster, there were three there. One was just the regular citizen reporting that he had information on the doomsday bomb set to go off in East LA. The Times reported on it first and we picked up the story after them. According to this guy, who worked for the Times, it was all a fabrication. Their reporter's way of drawing The Green Hornet into a trap. But it didn't work."

Parker nodded, urging her to continue.

"The next was a police officer from the 10th district. He claimed to have information on the officers turning rogue for the reward money on The Green Hornet. We all doubted he was legit, but Britt wanted to meet him and find out for himself."

"Who was the third?" Kato now pressed.

"Just some blond bimbo from the playboy mansion trying to sell her life story." Casey snapped her notes closed. "She didn't last in the meeting very long."

Parker grinned a little, despite his reeling mind. "Must not have been too hot if Reid fell asleep in that meeting. Do you think one of them could have stuck around? Hidden in the office?"

"Is possible." Kato replied, shrugging. "Personal restroom. Anyone can hide in there."

"So we have three possible who's. I doubt it's the first, but I've been surprised before. The cop worries me. I'll give my office a call to check him out. Could Reid be enjoying just a little afternoon delight on his birthday with a blond playboy playmate?" at the last question, the DA's eyebrow raised. He was putting the question mildly at the very least.

Kato turned red and snickered a little.

Casey crossed her arms. "I doubt it. If he was, then why did he call you? To brag about it? And he would have said SOMETHING to Kato, he's not the most private about who he decides to bang on his office desk." She was hot and fiery as she said it.

I can just imagine that look on her face. The flush on her cheeks. Her little heels stamping on the floor as they got her point across. God, she was hot when she was mad. I was sad I missed it, but at least she had a good point. One of them was going to have to get inside my office and check out the state of affairs. Someone had to make sure I was still alive and kicking, and they better do it soon before the entire press room started floating back up to the 28th floor in search of the absentee birthday boy. If they were going to make a move at all, now was the time.

* * *

"I'm getting a little sick of this, Reid." The Hornet said, pacing in front of my desk. Nervously? Was he beginning to sweat? If he was that was a sure sign he'd eventually be making some exploitable mistake. I had but to wait for said opening and take any and all advantage of that if I could. Forget hiding my ju-jit-du training. I was getting a little tired of my throbbing head and I was pretty sure the longer this went on the less chance I was going to get about extracting form this situation relatively unscathed. At least that was the opinion of Michael Weston on Burn Notice. And he was a spy.

The two inch line of cracked skin on the back of my head was a good testament to precisely that. I held a paper towel folded up against the cut, reminding myself that head wounds tended to bleed, a lot, and tried not to panic when it did just that. The Hornet crossed to my office windows and looked out into the pressroom. Satisfied no one was attempting a rescue he stood in front of me again with the gun level with my chest. I sat back, my hands raised to the sky.

"Hey look, I told you. I don't write the stories. I hardly even read my own paper! That's what I hire editors for!" I tried to plead with the guy. But he was playing hard ball.

He just threw the morning's paper at me. The one with all the highlighted and circled articles with my personal notes off in the side columns. Awesome. Of all days for me to decide I was suddenly the editor of a newspaper.

"Enough lies." The Hornet kept his voice low, but I could feel the fury in it. "You've got five seconds to give me The Hornet's location or I'm blowing your brains across this office."

My body jerked out of my seat. "What? The Hornet's location?"

"One . . ." he counted.

"What are you talking about?"

"Two . . ."

"Aren't you The Green Hornet? What's this really about?"

"Three . . ."

At last I started to put things together. It was the gun. The gun was the key to everything.

"Four . . ."

"Police issue berretta 9mm." I whispered.

"Five!" he leaned forward, squeezing the trigger as he did so.

But he turned at the last moment. My office door opened inward. Lenore Case walked right in, her words starting off as something mundane, like a file I hadn't signed, or a call I had missed. Then those words twisted and writhed into a frightened, pained scream for her life.

The gun exploded.

I leaped across the desk and hit The Hornet . . . no, the dirty, stinking cop . . . with my full weight. He crashed to the floor and kicked me away with his heavily booted foot. I lunged for the window. I pulled back the drapes, meaning to send the whole of the editorial office running in with the shock of what had happened.

It was the first time I had ever seen my entire 28th floor completely devoid of life. Not a sole was in the copy room, no human resided near a desk. Nothing. It was a complete ghost town.

The cop twisted and stood over me with the gun between my eyes. A second later, after he knew I wouldn't move, he shut the drapes and went to the door.

Case's body hit the floor by the landing. He had to shove her forward to close the door all the way behind her. Regardless if he decided to shoot me or not I ran to her side and drew her into my arms.

"Casey!" I screamed. Fear overpowering me. But anger swiftly replacing it. I shook her body, to scared to look for the wound that assuredly was gushing blood by this point. I placed my hand against her forehead, patting it slightly. She didn't come around. Didn't look up.

The cop was saying something, trying to muscle me around. But I had had enough. I knew the story of the dirty cops as well as anyone else. My chief crime report first broke the news only a few days ago. This cop had one thing going for him, though. He wasn't sitting out all night in his cruiser planning on taking The Green Hornet down that way. He went straight to one of The Green Hornet's biggest press crowds, the _Daily Sentinel_, and tried to locate him that way.

Not a bad plan. And whether he'd ever know it or not he found The Green Hornet in the end. But I was sick and tired of his mouth and his gun and my own ignorance in the entire situation.

I stood, bench pressing Casey up in my arms as I did so. I walked her over to the couch and laid her down on it, hoping to God she'd be all right.

When I turned around, I became The Hornet.

The cop was shaken up by what he'd done. But his resolve was steadfast. He was seeing this thing threw to the end. A quarter of a million dollars was a lot of money and not easily tossed aside by something so trivial as murder.

Murder.

Casey.

But now, he had no idea who he was facing and how bad I could be. As he held the gun in front of him, brandishing it towards my forehead I made my move. My hand shot out in a single swift chop to his wrist, His gun flew wild, hitting the carpet and skittering away. In its absence, the cop panicked. We grappled.

I wrapped one arm around his waist and drove him forward into the conference table. He chopped at my shoulders, causing my hold to slacken. I moved back, catching his left leg and pulling up until he lost balance and slammed backwards into the table edge before hitting the floor. With him below and me on top the two of us wrestled like madmen. My breath came in a series of grunt and growls as I muscled left or he muscled right. I pushed my hands forward and down, trying to find purchase on his throat, or gain a way to seal him in a headlock. His left elbow rose into my face, pushing my head sideways as his legs pushed up against my chest. His right hand was searching for something on his belt.

It was too late, my hands too entangled, his arm too free, to stop him from his plan of attack.

From his belt he produced a switchblade knife. And as his legs pushed up and body twisted at once he got free enough to ram the blade into my left thigh from behind, good and deep. Then, as I jackknifed back and screamed like a pig at slaughter he twisted the blade.

I'd always seen the bad guy do that in movies. When he was cornered in a rough spot he always stuck in the knife and twisted for emphasis before pulling it back. I always imagined and cringed with the crowed on how that must hurt like Hell. But it was just a little bit worse than that. More comparable to bamboo shards rammed under finger nails by a mallet. Or walking barefoot over shards of glass. Maybe even ramming a tent spike through my own brain then pulling it out and doing it again. It may have been worse than getting shot in the shoulder. Either way it hurt a little more than Hell too.

Sensing he had again gained the upper hand, the cop shot to his feet and grabbed his gun. I sat askew, my hand encompassing the hilt of the knife trying to decide if I should remove it or not.

"Don't take it out." he said, as if reading my mind. He was standing over the still unconscious Case his gun trained on her. A much more worthy threat then aiming it at me. "Ever here of a femoral artery? You'll bleed to death in three minutes. Tops. For the last time. Where is The Hornet!"

* * *

"You heard that didn't you?" the DA exclaimed, stepping just partially out of the corner office. He and Kato had been standing in there, looking out after Casey, watching her reaction to what she found in the room. The sound of the gun splitting the air was a shock to the both of them.

Seeing Casey fall was far worse.

It was all Kato could do to keep Parker reigned in. Even as they hid back behind the office wall and watched me looking with desperation into the editing room, they stayed hidden.

"Then the form came into view, so briefly it was like a green shadow hanging over the window. Then it was by the door, dragging Lenore in and sealing the door shut behind her.

"Holy Toledo, did you see that!" Parker said beneath his breath, keeping quiet.

Kato nodded. "The Green Hornet alright. And cop too. I do not think that is Playgirl rabbit."

I probably would have made fun of what Kato said. But I was hearing this later on, so I let it pass. Parker at least didn't bother him about how he described the playboy playmate.

"I have idea." Kato replied, tugging on the DA's sleeve and motioning for the elevator. "Let's fight The Hornet with The Hornet and see how he likes it."

Even as the DA followed him out, wondering over Kato's cryptic words, his mind was on Lenore and Britt Reid (me) who were probably dead by now on the other side of the office door. As it was they were gone just briefly. Long enough to go down to my parking spot and pop the trunk of the Cadillac. In it rested something Parker had seen very often, and usually with me in it. It was my green fedora, the mask of The Hornet, and my top coat and vest. Everything he needed to become, temporarily, The Green Hornet himself. Kato had his own chauffer's outfit and mask folded beside it.

The DA looked at Kato, his eyes wide. "This is your plan?"

Kato grinned. "Is good plan."

"It is a good plan. But will it work?"

Kato shrugged. Grabbing his uniform he disappeared inside to change. B.J. went closely behind him.

* * *

I had decided by this point not to take the knife out of my leg, even though it went against every fiber of my being. It was sharp. Foreign. It was stabbing into my leg and it could be killing me. It hurt. I wanted it out. And I wanted it out now.

But I didn't have that option.

I sat on my right leg, my left extended out as far as it could. I tried to keep it straight and the pressure off my new bleeding wound. Who knew that being a news editor would get me into a whole mess of trouble like this. Figures.

I had by this time been ignoring the cop. I took a moment, weighing my options. If I said nothing, Lenore was dead. If I spilled my guts, he'd never believe me. If I gave him false info?

"Fine." I said, staying his hand before he got to whipping Lenore around, or worse. "Fine, you win, all right? I'll tell you who the informant is. Then will you leave?"

The cop nodded, real slow.

"All right. My informant . . . " I paused, trying to think of something reasonable. "He's, it's Axford. Mike Axford, my chief editor. If anyone knows anything about The Hornet, its Axford. He runs the paper. Not me."

The cop's gun lowered, ever so slightly. He was thinking the idea over. Trying to test its legitimacy with all I had given him already on The Green Hornet files. To him, at least, it was begin to seem possible.

It was just long enough for the door to blast open.

For the second time in the course of the morning I was met with another man dressed as The Green Hornet. The one standing before me now was considerably more believable. For one, he had Kato. No Hornet was believable without his Kato. And secondly, he was wearing my clothes, and doing it rather dashingly too. With a sudden shock of hilarity I realized it was the DA. It was the only logical person. I had called him for help already and thus far believed he had yet to receive the call. And Kato. My favorite, number one Shong-di. My Tanto.

I don't think I'd ever been happier to see them in my life. And Parker looked like he was enjoying the moment to its fullest. He was holding The Hornet Sting, a weapon of Kato's creation. It blasted a powerful electromagnetic something-or-another. The jist of it was it could make one really big boom or a semi-still-awesome little boom. Right now, it was on medium-boom. Enough to blast the door open and do a considerable amount of damage to the dirty cop.

The Hornet/DA held the Sting like a Tommy gun. The cop didn't know what to do with himself so he just stood there with a stupid look on his face.

"Well, well. What do we have here. Did I break up something?" The Hornet asked, glaring at the cop.

The officer gulped, his 9mm shaking in his hand.

"And here I was going to come and pay my respects for the press release." The Hornet produced an issue of my paper and slapped it against the floor. "But it looks like someone beat me to the punch. Someone stab you, chief?"

I was trying my hardest to hide my overwhelming glee at seeing the DA coming to my rescue at last. "What do you want, Hornet?" I rasped out.

"Just to take my pound of flesh." Parker growled. He sounded a good deal like me too when I was The Hornet. "But now that I'm faced with a local imposter I'm a little miffed about the situation.

"The . . . The Green . . . The Green Hornet!" the cop stammered out.

Parker gleamed one of the fiercest smiles I'd ever seen on the man. "That's right."

"You're . . . you're under . . . you're under arrest!" the cop's gun was shaking uncontrollably. The fear of The Green Hornet, the real (sort of) Green Hornet put him right over the edge and out into the atmosphere. With the slightest nod to Kato, the deadly China man rushed the officer and felled him in a few good strokes. I watched him go to it, his grace was unmistakable and I felt envious all at once. He made it look just so darn easy. Then again having a half paralytic cop does aid in the overall take down.

At least that's what I convinced myself of for now. It made me feel better.

When the cop was down and out, Kato and the DA both rushed for me. With the knife sticking out of my leg I appeared in the most obvious danger. But a swift reproach sent them instead heading to Casey's side where I knew they were needed most.

"She was shot, I think." I told them, easing down to the floor until I was sprawled on my stomach. The knife telescoped out of my thigh, a thin trail of blood circling its edges and staining my pant legs. Note to self: invest in a good blood-removing product.

Kato tenderly looked Case over. I heard a soft moan, or whisper come from her lips.

"Easy." Parker said. "Take it easy. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt?" she asked, more than a little disoriented.

I was, by this time, very close to deciding to pass out on the carpet. After all, it was there. It was comfortable. The white fibers cruised softly along my face like so many kitten tails. God it was nice to be among friends again. Some part of my foggy mind was thinking about Case. And where she was shot and if she would live. Another part thought about the DA and if he'd ever be giving me back my Green Hornet gear. I sort of figured he wouldn't. Kato may have to make a backup set.

"I- What happened? Are you looking up my blouse?"

I heard Case scream in fury, and Kato make a soft _whump_ like he'd been hit below the belt in a certain key location.

Suddenly the DA was back over me. He leaned down. I felt a hand gently touch my back.

"She's ok. She fainted. Britt? How you doing?"

"Huh?" I asked from somewhere in a pleasant dream, walking on a cloud. I think there were unicorns.

"Can you hear me, Britt?"

I rubbed my face into the carpet. And suddenly I was back home again, sitting in my cushy bed. Waiting for Kato's morning cup of Joe.

"Kato, call and ambulance."

"Ambulance?" I whispered. The coffee was just hitting my lips when I started coughing and sputtering. My eyes shot open to see The Hornet pulling the glass of brandy away from my lips. What was this? The fifties? Who gives people brandy anymore when they decide to pleasantly pass out?

I was on the couch now, sitting up with my leg propped over the arm rest to keep the pressure off the blade still in it. I'm not sure when, how, I got there. But the DA was still dressed like me and Kato was fluttering around like a girl unsure what he should be doing with himself.

"Hey," I said then stopped to try and remember what I was saying. "Oh, uh, you should really not be Kato and The Green Hornet when the cops start busting in here. Don't you think?"

Parker gave me a funny look, then realized what I was saying and chuckled a little to himself. "Oh, yeah, Britt I guess you're right. Come on, Kato. Let's get out of these clothes before someone sees us."

"You're supposed to say "Let's Roll Kato!" I shouted after their retreat.

Casey stayed. She was sitting at my side, holding my hand for a few moments before she realized what she was doing and quickly got up and walked away. Instead she took a tour of the room, noting all the damages we were going to eventually need to replace. I watched her, trying to take my mind off of the giant knife that was still sticking out of my frickin' thigh.

"You're dad's picture." I heard her say, picking up the photo that was responsible for knocking me out.

"Yeah." I said. "Next time let's frame it in something a little lighter. Like cardboard."

She looked at all The Green Hornet files spread across the room. Most of which had gone flying when I swan dove across my desk. Then there was the smashed window glass where I was driven into it. And the bullet lodged in the floor. And the bullet I now saw lodged in the wall instead of in Casey. That reminded me . . .

"That was awful brave of you, Case." I said.

She turned and looked at me. She was standing over the cop now. "What do you mean?"

I motioned to the door. "Just hauling off and rushing in here. He could have killed you. I thought he did! I don't want to rope you or B.J. into this big mess if I can help it. The whole point in me and Kato being bad guys is so our friends don't suffer the consequences. It doesn't help us any when you take risks like that. Imagine if that cop got a shot off and killed Parker. How can you cover something like that up?"

Her arms crossed as I was talking. She was either A not buying it or B about to totally agree with me and give me a kiss for thinking of her safety above all else.

Why does she always pick A?

"_**I **_was just trying to help! After all you weren't that great with the undercover clues. Cancel your appointments? Hold your calls? Who says that?" her red little heel was tapping, her body jigging with it the way it always did when I ticked her off. Maybe there was a reason I kept doing it. I liked watching her body move.

"Well that's what they always say in the movies. I figured it might help. And for your information the minute I hung up that phone I got pistol-whipped with a gun which is much less cool when I'm not the one doing it!" I sort of just remembered that when I said it and put a hand to my hair line. It took maybe two seconds to find the angry red slice that split my skull.

Oh yeah. I had a migraine. Ow.

I threw a hand at the office beyond my open door. "And what the Hell is with everyone not being out there? Where'd they all go? I figured a couple of gunshots would send even the obituary writer flying in here like he was getting a scoop!"

Casey's chin jutted forward, her beautiful little jaw dropping and her lips displaying something like overwhelming shock. "You—you don't even remember?"

I shrugged, realized that hurt, and stopped. "Remember what? I hardly remember my own name after the wallop that guy gave me. Who knew being a paper person was so deadly."

Her little heels stalked forward until she was standing over me. Her face was still overwhelmed. "Britt, it's your birthday. Remember?"

I wasn't really listening. I was probing my face, trying to figure out what was still bleeding and what had stopped, where my eye started turning black and blue and if-

"My birthday!" I exclaimed. I instantly tried to get to my feet, shouting a little when I hit the knife that for at least a little while I forgot about. Casey grabbed my arms to either help me or hinder me. I'm not sure which. Either way I ended up on my feet and hobbling to the door with her under one arm

"Where are we going?" she asked, too surprised to really stop my forward progress.

"I'm not missing my own party!" I replied, heading out of my office and into the elevator.

"But what about, that, the cop guy?" she stammered as the elevator door closed behind us.

"Ah, he won't wake up for the next three days. Trust me. Kato got him good." I half believed my own assurances. All that mattered right now was getting to my party and seeing what it looked like. It didn't matter at this point that I could bleed to death, or that I had a migraine, or that my face looked like I'd gone ten rounds with Jose Cuervo (he was a boxer right?) all that mattered was my awesome birthday party. And I was SO not missing it.

Figured the way the streets in LA are, it would take at least 15 minutes for the ambulance to show up. If it hit traffic it could be 30. Kato would be worried sick and insist on driving me instead. I'd let him, when he found me. That would take him ten minutes.

Wow, it was a good thing our security system was down. It might look kind of weird if Kato and Parker were running in and out of the building dressed as The Green Hornet, then not The Green Hornet and so on.

I got off on the tenth floor. Casey still protesting, but knowing there was nothing that would stop me. After all, I was just stabbed Face Off style with a twisty thing and all, knocked out, almost shot, and held hostage for over two hours in my office. If that wasn't stopping me, she certainly wouldn't either.

We opened the doors to the staff lounge. The entire place was decked out in full birthday array. Streamers, balloons, party poppers cracking like gun fire, confetti rained from the ceiling, the place was coated from wall to wall in awesome birthday crap. My employees even seemed genuinely happy to enjoy in the festivities. Not like other office parties where they sit, clap for a minute or two, and then quickly leave before the boss turns it into a staff meeting. It took a little bit after the second line of "Happy Birthday to you" for them to realize I looked like I got the crap beat out of me. Then another minute to remember I didn't look like that this morning. By "Happy Birthday Britt Reid" the song died to a few newsboys in the back who had yet to get a good look at their boss while everyone else rushed forward like a wave to figure out what in the world had just happened to me.

It was a paper after all. Everyone was a reporter and everyone wanted the scoop.

"Hang on a second, Britt. I'll get this for you!"

The voice was Axford's and I partly lost it in the cacophony that was now the birthday celebration. He was standing at my back. And his hand was reaching downwards. Before I could turn around and stop him he pulled the knife out of my leg.

I think it was right around then when I finely passed out.

* * *

"Oh, stop crying would you? Please, you're embarrassing me."

"It's my birthday and I can cry if I want to." I said steadfastly.

"It was your birthday five days ago." Casey pointed out matter-of-factly. She was standing at my office door, trying to help me get to my chair. I had a crutch under each arm and after going across a parking lot, up a flight of stairs, throughout the copy room rounds, and across the bull pen, I was about to fall apart. My leg was killing me, I hurt, I had a headache, and my right eye was still swollen.

Oh, and the knife didn't hit my femoral artery. Which is why I am currently alive. But I still demoted Axford to distributing papers downtown for a week for pulling a twisted knife out of my leg. I mean, honestly, who does that?

Kato was standing in my office already in his black suit and pencil thin tie. I swear sometimes he looked like a Japanese boy band all by himself.

I got to my desk, eased myself down, and took a few minutes to collect myself and pop a few painkillers. I had to start getting rational with those. More occasions like this and I might just turn into a Vicodin addict like House. After I settled in Kato stood in front of my desk. It's now I realized he was hiding something.

I looked at him, then I smiled. "Kato?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

"What have you got?"

"Your birthday gift."

My hands shot out, my eyes closed. He plopped a heavy box into my hand. I dropped it onto my desk and tore the wrapping apart. Then the box was left in utter shreds as Case stood back and imagined having to clean the wreckage when I has finely finished.

What I found inside was a surprise. Not because of its nature, but because of our location. When I looked up I noticed Kato had already shut my office door and closed the window shades to prevent any prying eyes.

I lifted out my Green Hornet uniform. First the mask, which seemed normal enough, then the jacket and vest. Both of which felt somehow different, slightly heavier but softer. I looked at him for an explanation.

"Well, Parker say he want to keep the first uniform he borrowed."

I nodded, figuring it would be hard to get it away from him.

"So," Kato went on, "I took the chance to make you better suit. It has type of Kevlar. But better. Stronger. So you will not be shot so easy now." He shrugged, looking down at his shoes and probably wondering if I'd be offended. Me, the guy that keeps getting shot, or stabbed, or beat to a pulp.

I stood as best I could at my desk, lifting the jacket and spinning it around. "Wow, Kato, this is just great! I can't wait till we're back in action and I can try it all out! That's just frickin' sweet!"

Obviously this was the reaction he wanted. He looked up, smiling. Then he produced a gun that I'm never quite sure where he hides. He aimed it at me (or rather the jacket in front of me) and fired a round. Before I had a chance to scream, or duck, or even attempt to run, the moment was over. The bullet ricocheted harmlessly around the room before taking out the vase of flowers on my left and dousing the freshly cleaned carpet in brown water.

I looked at Kato and grinned my approval.

Casey looked like she wanted to kill Kato.

And I stuffed all The Green Hornet gear under my desk as the pressroom flooded into my office at the sound of the latest gunshot.

The gun disappeared, and Kato was holding a party popper in his hand.

Again, don't ask me how he does it.

The end.

Thanks for taking your time to read, now please, please drop me a review (thanks to those who have been!). My inspiration is waning, but if I get at least a LITTLE positive feedback I might make a harder attempt at new stories.


End file.
